


Tourist Trap

by astrangerenters



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Europe, F/M, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you really want this to be fate, fine. It's fate, you and me, on this train at this point in time. Maybe we've been fated since the dawn of time to sit here and enjoy our jet lag together."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tourist Trap

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JE White Day

He'd spent an entire day of his life in airports or in the air. The first flight had taken him to Moscow, where a scheduled layover of two hours turned into four. And then his iPod crapped out somewhere over Poland, leaving him stuck with a bunch of bizarre sitcoms to watch for the last hour or two of his flight into Paris. 

Satoshi had warned him that it would feel like the longest day of his life, but he hadn't believed him. He almost wished he'd just stayed home. He hadn't been able to sleep, since one baby had started up crying on flight number one only for its obviously evil twin to start up on the second flight. He followed the slow-moving line of people through the narrow aisles back in coach with his backpack in hand, then through business and first class. The air was far fresher once he was off the plane, shuffling his way into the terminal. 

Non-Japanese languages had never been his strong suit, so after some trial and a lot of error involving another tourist and her chihuahua who'd traveled with her all the way from Moscow, he found his way to the baggage claim, waiting like a zombie as the carousel started up with a noisy klaxon. Most of the faces around him had obviously not come all the way from Narita, and they seemed perfectly fine as they huddled around, hands darting out to snatch suitcases with the precision timing of an Olympic sporting event.

He hung back a bit behind a mother and her kids who were conversing in rapid fire French (he guessed), waiting patiently for his own suitcase to come around. The crowd started to thin as he shifted from foot to foot, his desire to just lay down on the floor and sleep for a week beginning to win out over everything else. Finally, his shitty, battered red suitcase with the all too identifiable Mario sticker came around the bend.

He stumbled forward, blinking back exhaustion as he prepared to grab it. He had the handle in his sweaty palm when someone collided with him from behind. He nearly went flying onto the carousel belt himself, but instead his shins knocked into the metal, and he whimpered.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" came a way too enthusiastic voice in Japanese, shoving him aside as her skinny arm reached past him to snatch up a bright green rolling bag. He still managed to get his suitcase off the belt, though now his legs were throbbing and he'd be limping for a year. Well, maybe not a year.

He turned around to see a short girl with long brown hair adding the green suitcase to a large luggage cart where she'd already stashed another green bag and a green purse. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her lame apology, instead turning to walk away. But he heard the squeaky wheels of the luggage cart a few minutes later after he'd gone through customs.

"I really am sorry," she repeated, pushing her cart along as they weaved through a sea of equally harried arrivals.

He set down his red suitcase, pulling up the handle so he could drag it behind him, looking for signs that would get him to the train. "Don't worry about it," he said quickly, hoping to get lost in the crowd. He didn't need a friend, not when he was tired and irritable.

She refused to give up. "I was on your flight to Moscow, too," she continued, not seeming to care that he'd prefer to be left alone. Her voice was cheerful in a way that seemed impossible if she'd come all the way from Narita the same as him. "I was a few rows in front of you."

He could barely remember the person he'd sat beside, much less anyone else on that flight. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, you looked rather miserable whenever I headed back for the bathroom." He tried to walk a little faster, but his new companion was rather skillful at navigating through the crowds with her luggage cart. "Are you taking the train into the city, too?"

He could lie, take his bag and head off for the taxi cab line for a while, but she was simply trying to make conversation. It was a habit some people had. He wasn't one of those people, though, unless he was out drinking. But he was too tired for any sort of attempts at espionage so he nodded.

"Oh good," she said, weaving her cart around an utterly lost looking older couple. "I don't speak a word of the language here, so maybe we can help each other?"

He definitely wasn't feeling helpful. "I...I don't know French."

This didn't seem to deter her, and she smiled brightly at him. She looked a little European herself with her bright green eyes, but her Japanese was perfect. "We'll manage," she assured him. "We made it this far, right?"

He let her chatter on, mostly just reading the signs and saying things like "oh it's this way" and "oh, just down this escalator!" Finally they found where the train line met the terminal, and they stopped. He unzipped his bag to pull out the folder of crap Satoshi had emailed him - how to buy tickets, which train station to go to, where to wait at the station once he got there...

His companion stopped too, digging through her massive purse for an obnoxious pink planner that presumably contained the same information. "Did you bring Euros? I have Euros if you need Euros," she asked him, pulling out an equally pink wallet from her bag.

"Uh...yeah, some." At least enough to get him to the train station - Satoshi told him to wait until he was away from the airport to change his money.

"I'm meeting my friend at the Gare du Nord," she said, pronouncing the name with slowed syllables. 

Great. That was where he was going, too. He told her as much, rudely walking off with his bag in search of a ticket machine to use.

"Maybe we can sit together!" He ignored her, reading through Satoshi's directions as he fed some bills into the machine. "Gosh, it must be fate, finding the only other Japanese person going this way!"

"I'm probably not the only one," he muttered, looking from Satoshi's directions to the screen and back again in confusion. His friend was notoriously terrible at simple instructions. He gestured to the machine next to him. "You can use that one, you know."

She laughed, not moving from behind him. Her cart was just at his ankles. "You really are grouchy, aren't you?"

He pushed the button for the station that seemed to best match up with his friend's instructions, hearing the machine start to print out his ticket. "Sorry. I'm usually not." 

Most of the time he didn't have a chatterbox girl nagging him.

Despite his opportunity to finally ditch the girl while she bought her ticket, he decided that he'd been rude enough to her. The pair of them were both thousands of miles from home, and maybe if Satoshi saw him walking with a pretty girl when they met up at the Gare du Nord he'd be impressed. Or not.

The train was leaving in a few minutes, and they had to hurry down to the platform. The girl had to ditch her luggage cart, panicking with her two large suitcases. Some of the other tourists hurried around them, muttering their obvious irritation under their breath. He finally just yanked one of the bags away from her and tugged it into the car after him.

"Sorry! Thank you!" she declared, hurrying into the car after him. She fussed for the longest time in the baggage area, and he gave up as she arranged and rearranged her suitcases. For his part, he'd just tossed his in the nearest open space.

He sat down within sight of the baggage, collapsing into the seat almost happily. There was more leg room than on the plane, though not much. But there'd be no relaxation yet because the girl sat down in the seat across from him, staring at him with her huge and admittedly pretty eyes. He finally seemed to notice her clothes, a denim jacket unbuttoned over a red dress and yellow tights. Her clothes were as colorful as her personality seemed to be.

"Must be fate," she said again. "Two people, all the way from Tokyo to Paris taking the same train from the airport."

He sighed. "It's not really fate though, is it? I mean, there's a good probability that people will take the same flights we did, and this is the main train route into the city. I wouldn't call it fate so much as a coincidence."

She was undeterred. "Whatever you say." The train jerked a bit and finally started to move. "Anyhow, I'm Becky."

"Becky," he repeated.

"Despite how it sounds, I'm from Japan. My dad's English though. Not that I really know any. I've only been to England once before, when I was little."

"I see."

"I'm going to London after Paris. My friend's in school here, so I'm visiting for a few days, then I'll be in England for a week. I can stay with my grandma for free, thank god, the flight over here was so expensive. How about you? How long will you be in Paris?"

He swallowed down an uncomfortable lump in his throat. "Ah, a while. I'm staying with my friend for a few weeks, few months, haven't decided yet."

"Oh really? How lucky!"

He didn't think it was lucky. His mom had finally gotten sick of his moping around, and he was glad when Satoshi's invite had come. Much as he'd never imagined himself wandering all the way to Europe, he hoped he'd get something out of it. "My friend's Japanese too, but he's been living here for about a year now."

"That's amazing, I'd love to live in Europe. It seems so nice," she said as the train cleared out of the station and started to leave the airport behind. "Oh, I'm terrible, I haven't even asked your name yet..."

"Ninomiya," he mumbled. "Ninomiya Kazunari. Nice to meet you."

She smiled again, and he had to admit that it was kind of nice. She was the type of girl who just liked to smile, and it had been a while since he'd had much to smile about. "Nice to meet you, too, Ninomiya-san. And thank you, for talking to me, helping me out. Most people probably wouldn't. I've been told that I can be a little...forceful?"

He shook his head. "Ah, it's fine..."

"I just...I don't know, it's just funny, being on that flight, bumping into you at the baggage claim, taking the train to the same station..."

"It's the biggest train station in Paris. Or one of. I think." He'd been too miserable on the flight to try reading the guidebook he'd picked up at the secondhand bookshop back home.

"Fine, you don't believe in fate..."

He chuckled. "If you really want this to be fate, fine. It's fate, you and me, on this train at this point in time. Maybe we've been fated since the dawn of time to sit here and enjoy our jet lag together."

She sighed. "You're no fun."

"Oh, definitely not," he said, seeing her grow even more annoyed with him. She was very easy to tease, he was discovering.

The Paris suburbs flew by outside the window, but what was inside seemed more interesting. She was taking out a map, seeming to forgive and forget his lack of belief in the destiny of their meeting. He watched her unfold the map, her fingernails painted in alternating shades of yellow and red as she drew them across the map.

"Here," she said, gesturing slightly to the middle. "Latin Quarter, that's where I'm staying. Her school's not far."

The map didn't make much sense to him. He'd be camping on Satoshi's floor indefinitely, so he'd probably get to that neighborhood at some point. "I'll be in Chinatown, my friend lives there. Thirteen something or other."

"In the 13th arrondissement," she said, pointing at the map. "Over here I think?"

"13th what?"

She folded up the map and shoved it back in her purse. "You didn't look anything up, did you?"

He shrugged. "I'll be here a while, I'll figure it out."

"Well, I only have three days," she said again. "I'm going to walk around until my feet fall off! I have to see everything."

Nino himself wasn't terribly interested in all the tourist traps, and he didn't have to worry about Satoshi forcing him to go visit any. His friend was just as thrifty as he was, content to stay in and just relax. But when he told Becky that, she gaped at him.

"But it's Paris!"

"So?"

She looked horrified. "Paris, one of the most beautiful cities in the world, with all this history, and you're telling me that you're going to spend the next few months cooped up in your friend's apartment?"

He didn't really owe her an explanation beyond that. She was just some girl he'd met at the baggage claim, some girl who'd presumably forced herself into his life so she wouldn't have to ride the train alone. Did it matter how he was going to spend his time here? He was just running away from reality anyway, delaying adulthood just a while longer. There was nothing waiting back at home for him but that. At least here in France he could be in denial.

"I'll eat a few croissants, how's that?" he joked, but she was already taking out her phone. 

"Give me your number," she demanded, and Nino had never met a woman before who ever offered her number before he asked for it. He decided not to read into it that much since the look in her eyes was more irritation with him than infatuation.

He took out his phone, and they exchanged numbers. "My friend's an artist," he told her. "I mean, it's not like the stuff you'll go see at the Louvre, but he's not bad."

She smirked at him. "Trying to set me up with him?"

"Well, I'm just thinking that if you call him you might have more fun. I mean, you're only here for three days and I expect to sleep for the next week..."

She shut her phone and put it back in her bag. "I'll get you out. The both of you if I have to. My friend has a boyfriend, but I'm sure I can wrangle up someone from her dorm for your artist friend."

"A double date in Paris, sounds like a movie." It had been a while since he'd done anything fun, other than spontaneously booking a trip to Paris. Maybe once he slept off his annoying feelings he'd meet her for a drink before she headed to London. Couldn't hurt, and she'd be a lot easier to talk to than a French girl. Just so long as she didn't have her big suitcases with her.

"So you can be a hermit all you want," she said, organizing the European money in her wallet. "But if I call, you have to switch that part off. Just for a little while. I don't think I'll be able to leave unless I know you had fun at least once, Ninomiya-san."

"Am I your charity case?"

She smiled again, and he liked that. "Sure, my charity case."

With that, they lapsed into companionable silence for the remainder of the train ride. More passengers started to get on and off the closer they got to the center of the city, and Nino was exhausted. It seemed like Becky's initial enthusiasm was starting to wane, and he almost laughed at her attempt to hide a yawn behind her big purse. Jet lag got to everyone before too long.

The Gare du Nord stop was next, and they both got up. The press of passengers moved them a bit close as they squeezed their way to the luggage racks, and he felt sudden warmth as their arms touched. But then she was hauling her bags down, completely ignoring him in favor of getting all her damn stuff over to the car's exit. He yanked his bag down, waiting behind her.

The station was bustling, full of people hurrying to and fro as they hopped out of the car, and Nino felt like he was in a bizarre version of home. Everyone seemed to know where they were going, they were all in a hurry, and Becky got ahead of him. Of course, there was no reason for them to travel together now - she was looking for her friend and Satoshi was probably waiting for him. But he had this sudden urge to say goodbye to her. What if she never called? What if she forgot about him as soon as she got to her friend's dorm? And why the hell did he care?

Jet lag, he told himself, pulling his suitcase behind him and dodging groups of teenagers and businessmen. Train station announcements echoed all around him, announcing trains leaving for places he had never heard of, and he was losing sight of her in the crowd. When he turned the next corner, she was gone.

Fate, she'd said on the train. He chuckled to himself, stepping out of the way to look at the directions Satoshi had given him. Maybe they were fated to just be strangers on a train, and the romanticism of it would have led to at least 20,000 words back in the day. But he was in the real world now. _That_ was fate.

Satoshi found him first, snaking through a crowd to punch him in the arm. "Come on, I already bought you a Metro ticket." 

Ohno Satoshi had never been much for words when he didn't need them, which was probably why he'd gone the art route and Nino had gone the writing one. But they always got along well enough - Satoshi never minded listening when Nino wanted to use words, and when Nino wanted silence Satoshi was more than happy to give it to him.

Feeling as welcomed to Paris as he was going to get, Satoshi took his backpack from him and they weaved through the crowd and then down some escalators to the Metro platform. Most of the trip was a blur, and the next thing he noticed was being shaken awake.

"We're here," Satoshi said.

Central Paris and the energy of his train companion were long gone now, and he blearily shuffled his way out of the Metro station after his friend. It was going to be dark sooner or later, and Satoshi assured him that he had plenty of food in his apartment if he wanted anything. Otherwise, there were plenty of places within walking distance.

Nino just wanted to sleep, and he barely took in the sights of the neighborhood, the narrow streets smelling of almost every Asian country's cuisine, the high-rises that Satoshi had said made up much of the area. He lived in one of them on the eleventh floor, and the elevator was slow but functional.

Satoshi made a living drawing portraits for tourists near the Notre Dame, and when he wasn't doing that he was a sculptor's apprentice. The apartment, small for France but huge compared to a place in Tokyo, was dotted with various works in progress. Of all the people in his life, Satoshi had been the last one he'd ever expected to leave the country, but he seemed settled in and content.

"I met a girl on the train," he told his friend as soon as he was lying in a cozy pile of cushions on the floor.

"Oh really?"

"She said it was fate," was all he managed to mumble before falling asleep.

\--

When he woke up, he smelled coffee and fresh bread. "You're up," Satoshi declared.

Nino kept the blanket around him, sitting up and blinking with a sigh. Sunlight was already pouring through the apartment glass, dust motes visible in the air. "What time is it?"

"10:00," his friend told him. "You were out cold for about fifteen hours. You didn't even move, I thought you might have died."

"Not dead." Nino fell back against the cushions, happy that his misery and exhaustion had mostly subsided after the sleep he'd gotten. "I'm never leaving. I can't do that flight again."

Satoshi chuckled. "Why do you think I'm still living here?"

A crusty baguette, a full pot of coffee, and a lukewarm shower did the rest of the work, and Nino finally felt like a human being again. By the time he got out of the shower, there was a note from Satoshi: he'd be at the sculptor's studio all day. A spare key had been placed next to the note. No further directions about how to get anywhere or what to do about his money. Nino just chuckled to himself. Oh well.

It was already noon when he decided to venture out to take in a bit of the neighborhood. Satoshi's apartment building was a few blocks from the Seine. He only needed a light jacket, and he was kind of glad his friend lived where he did. It was a more residential neighborhood. Nobody trying to scam oblivious tourists, just working people moving here and there. He made it to the river, and there was little of that famous Paris romance. It was more honest.

Just the backs of buildings, and a few boats moving up and down the river. This was the kind of thing he could write about, if he still had the heart for it. Where the real people lived, their homes, their local neighborhood spots, the grandeur of history nearby but not necessary for everyday life. This was what used to draw him in, pondering these kinds of things. Turned out that nobody wanted to read it.

His cell phone rang just in time with a church bell's chime in the distance. He rolled his eyes at the poetic notion of it all, seeing the name "Becky" pop up on the caller ID. Was she that desperate to get him out already? Had he really been as obnoxious and cold to her as he vaguely remembered the day before?

He leaned against the rail overlooking the water. "This is Nino," he said, almost instantly regretting it. He'd introduced himself to her properly after all. "Ah, Ninomiya."

"Ninomiya-san," came Becky's voice, and even with the fog of yesterday around him, it was instantly recognizable. The memory of the girl with the green eyes and the green bags came to him. But there was something off. "Hello there, it's Becky."

"Let me guess, you're calling from the Eiffel Tower?"

"No..."

"The Arch thing...the Triumphant Arch thing?"

"I'm not there either, and I'm really sorry to bother you..."

She sounded upset. Not "oh my God, my wallet's been stolen" upset, but still distressed enough to make him hold the phone a bit tighter.

"Becky? You okay?"

"It's my friend." The one in the dorm, Nino remembered. "Her boyfriend broke up with her."

Oh no, Nino thought. He didn't want to be brought into this kind of personal crisis...

"And we were supposed to go to the Moulin Rouge and all around there last night, but she wouldn't go out, and I couldn't just leave her, you know? So I stayed in with her..."

Nino wondered where this was going. "You wasted your first night?"

"Not wasted!" she said immediately before pausing. "Okay, yes, totally wasted it. And now she's so upset that she's refusing to go out even though I flew all the way here to see her. My itinerary is completely off right now, and I am freaking out."

"Sounds like it," he joked, but when she was quiet for a while he felt bad. Nino had all the time in the world, and here he was, wandering along the river at his leisure when the person who was actually here for a vacation was cooped up in her room. "Do you want me to ask Satoshi about tours? Maybe you can find a tour to do, a day tour or something?"

She finally spoke up. "I know this is a longshot, but I was thinking...well, maybe you could come around with me? I've only got today and tomorrow, and I know that we don't know each other..."

He remembered how much she'd bothered him at first, but then recalled the odd feeling he'd had as soon as she was out of reach when the train arrived at the Gare du Nord. And here she was, asking for his company. Him! After the way he'd behaved the day before, all grumpy and less than personable. He didn't really care about all the tourist crap, but despite his jerk attitude, she was still seeking him out. Maybe he was the only one who could help her.

He relished the thought of his walk, followed by a long evening at Satoshi's curled up in front of the TV set to find out if French TV was entertaining or not. But he remembered her silly insistence on fate from the day before, how she'd noticed him on the flight, in the train station. It was just one day out of however many he planned to spend in his cushion fort on Satoshi's floor. And it wasn't like his friend had left him with too many options for entertainment without him.

"Alright," Nino decided. "Where can I meet you? I think I can figure out an ATM situation."

"Well, we were supposed to do Notre Dame this morning and the Louvre all afternoon. I still want to do both."

He frowned and was thankful she couldn't see it. "Well, it's just after 1:00 now, when do they close?"

"6:00," she said. "Two hours at one, two at the other? I mean, I think that's doable."

He could say no. He could change his mind and save his limited funds, but he couldn't do it. "Alright, Notre Dame's the church, isn't it?"

She giggled. "You're joking, right?"

"Try me."

"You really didn't read the guidebook, did you?" She sounded a lot cheerier now that she was getting her way and crossing a few more things off her itinerary. "Let's meet at Notre Dame, can you take the Metro?"

He smiled. "I'm Japanese, I think I can figure out a train. Just tell me the station, and I'll find you."

"Hotel de Ville. Let's shoot for 2:00 PM. And Ninomiya-san?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

\--

It was almost 2:00 when they met, and she was just as perky and cheerful as she'd been at the airport. It wasn't as annoying as it had been before since he was fully rested now. He was more surprised she was still so alert if she'd spent her whole night comforting her awful friend. Even Satoshi had played a better host, getting him all that bread this morning. She greeted him with a little wave. Nino wasn't tall, but this girl was tiny, tucked where she was at the edge of the Metro turnstiles waiting for him. She looked like a Parisian mime stereotype in a striped t-shirt and jeans, a red scarf and black beret. Full-on European.

"That's it?" she asked him in disbelief, looking him up and down. "You don't even have a camera with you?"

He shrugged. "I have my wallet, that's the important part, right?"

She rolled her eyes and started to walk. Fortunately entry to the cathedral was free, and she laughed at his celebratory "Yes!" when he discovered it.

"If you'd read the book, you'd know that already!"

He let her run around the outside of the giant structure, following with a grin on his face. He had to admit that it was an enormous and impressive building, and she had her camera out, snapping photos left and right. The front facade, the buttresses. Nino was fairly certain she covered every single angle possible.

He held out his hand. "Let me get a photo of you."

He distinctly noticed her blush, but then she was shoving the camera into his hand. "Okay, it's just point and shoot. But sometimes you have to hold the button down a while...just be patient."

Nino waited for her to pose, watching her on the screen. He felt bad that she'd come all the way here and had to hang out with a stranger rather than her friend, but if she was annoyed by his presence, she didn't seem to be voicing it aloud. Her smile seemed utterly genuine, carefree, and kind, and he couldn't help directing her to switch spots with him so he could snap another photo of her with the river behind her.

Once they'd completed their circuit of the outside, she dragged him inside the fairly full cathedral. People of every nationality imaginable were inside, shuffling along and snapping photos of the stained glass, gaping up at the high ceilings. Everyone was pretty quiet, and he stuck by her side, keeping her from getting trampled by other tourists as she slowly looked from one bit of glass to the next. He had to admit that it was pretty amazing on the inside as well, even if he'd been determined not to visit places like this.

They had the option of paying to climb up to the top of the tower, and Nino was thrilled when Becky decided against it since they'd be walking all around the Louvre soon enough. His legs thanked her as did his wallet. When she'd seen enough of Notre Dame, they hopped back on the Metro towards the Louvre.

"Are you sure this is enough time?" he asked her. He'd never been one for art museums, but as soon as they approached the building he knew a few hours wasn't going to give her the full idea. Maybe if he called Satoshi and asked for the best things to see...

She linked her arm through his, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. She opened her purse, whipping out two tickets. "Since you were nice enough to come with me, it's my treat."

This girl knew the way straight to his heart, and he snatched the ticket from her hand. "I'm guessing this was your friend's ticket?"

"Well, she's not here, is she?" Becky said, sounding the slightest bit anxious as they hurried onward toward the giant glass pyramid that allowed them entrance.

With Becky's shortened itinerary, they decided to hit all the so-called highlights. The Mona Lisa turned out to be a huge disappointment, with at least fifty people standing in front of them, cameras and camera phones out snapping pictures of the famous painting. Everyone was taller, and Nino finally grabbed Becky's camera away from her. "Hold on a second," he said, holding the camera up over his head, pressing down on the button.

When he brought his arm back down, she sighed at the blurry photo. "Thanks for trying," she said with a chuckle. "I didn't think it'd be this awful."

"It's the most famous painting in the world. You're all about fate, so maybe it's fate that we're stuck behind all these people. Maybe we're just not meant to see it up close."

She poked him in the chest and walked away. "Well, at least we were in the same room."

He trailed her through the many busy galleries, steering her around groups of schoolkids as she kept looking up and down from her hefty guidebook. When she almost went flying down one of the staircases, he finally intervened, pulling her book away.

"Becky-san."

"Ninomiya-san," she said right back, eyes defiant as they stood against the bannister, letting other people walk around them.

"Put this away," he said, shaking the book in front of her face. "Look at where you are. You want to be here, want to see things. Well, look at them, won't you?"

"But what if I miss something?"

"Then you're missing something the book says you have to see, that's all."

She took the book from him, shoving it into her bag with a sigh before turning to head down the stairs. Great. He'd been a jerk again. They were her sightseeing plans after all. What right did he have to tell her how to wander around a museum? He followed her quietly, giving her some space. If Satoshi was here, Nino thought, she'd probably have a better time. He was good at staying quiet, keeping his opinions to himself (if he even had any).

She didn't say anything else to him, and it was a little awkward to wander from gallery to gallery. It was like they were dating and had had their first fight, and the thought would usually make him laugh. Today it didn't. Finally there was an announcement over the loudspeaker, and when people started to file out, Nino understood that the announcement had meant the museum was closing for the day. As soon as they emerged from the building, the sky was growing rosier and the sun would be setting soon. Maybe she'd have better luck without him challenging her plans.

But instead, she put her hand to his arm before he could speak.

"You're right," she admitted.

"Becky, I'm sorry..."

"No," she insisted, letting him go and smiling. "You're absolutely right. I'm the one who decided that two days and a little more would be enough for Paris, and I was wrong. So I'm sorry for dragging you around. There's a lot of ways to be a tourist, but having a hundred blurry photos of paintings isn't really worth it."

He grinned. "They weren't all blurry, were they?"

She turned her camera on, sliding closer so they could peer at the tiny screen together. "This one's not blurry," she said, gesturing to her photo of the Venus de Milo statue.

"Ah, but there is someone's arm in the way," he pointed out.

She laughed, and it seemed like the tension that had arisen in the museum had started to lessen. "Yeah, but what can you do?"

"So..." he said, looking around the Louvre courtyard as hundreds of that day's tourists wandered off for their next visits. 

"If you're wondering what's next on my itinerary, there isn't anything. Sayaka...I mean, my friend Sayaka, she was going to take me shopping on the Champs-Elysees, but that's no big deal," she explained. "I can do plenty of shopping in London."

And even though Nino would usually have welcomed the thought of not having to follow a woman from store to store, hauling her bags full of clothes and shoes, he found himself not yet wanting to part ways. The night was still young, and it wasn't like Becky's friend was going to be of much help. "I don't mind," he said, shrugging. "So long as it doesn't cost me anything."

"You're a cheapskate then, huh?" she asked him boldly.

"I'm smart with my money," he corrected her. He held out his Metro pass. "And besides, this is valid for 24 hours, and I've only used it since early this afternoon. It wouldn't be smart to waste it."

She seemed happy with his answer. "Very well then. Let's go shopping, Ninomiya-san."

They grabbed some ice cream from a local shop, and he let Becky go on about all her plans for England. Even if she was going to relax her itinerary for Paris a bit, her London excursion was going to take her all over the place. From there they hit the luxury stores on the Champs-Elysees, and Nino knew he was earning his share of scornful glares from the shop workers - after all, he was dressed pretty shabbily for designer stores, but Becky didn't seem to notice, so happy was she to just take a peek into some of the famous places.

The sun set, and Paris lit up in a way that Nino had mostly slept through the night before. The streets were full of honking cars, and the bars and restaurants opened and filled with people. But their feet grew sore before too long, and they decided to call it a night around 10:00 PM, parting at a Metro station.

"I'm sorry I'm not the most entertaining travel companion," he said as they stood out of the way, watching people go through the turnstiles. "I'm kind of the stay at home type."

"I am, too," she said. "Just not when I'm on vacation."

"Are you okay just getting back on the train? I can come with you..."

She blushed at the offer, shaking her head. She was bold as could be with him otherwise, teasing and laughing at him like they'd been friends for ages rather than two days. But as soon as he turned (somewhat) gentleman on her, her face would go red. "No, I'll be fine, thank you. And for putting up with me the whole day, thank you also. I really do appreciate it."

"It's no big deal." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around. "I...I, uh, what are you doing tomorrow? Your last big day, maybe you should do a tour?"

She looked at her feet. "Well, I was going to ask you the same thing. About tomorrow, I mean."

Did she really want to spend her entire Paris vacation stuck with someone like him? Much as his wallet didn't want him to, the thought of wandering around on the Metro with this crazy, cheerful girl wasn't so bad. He'd spent so much of the day in her company that he'd seemed to forget his own anger and disappointment with himself. He'd had fun, even if it had been non-stop crowds and walking.

"That depends on your itinerary," he said.

"Eiffel Tower and then a neighborhood of my choice," she offered. "I won't drag you all around, I promise. Not like today."

"How about 11 AM? That's an early day for me when I'm not doing anything with my life."

She laughed at him. "11:00 will be fine. Hold on a second..." She ducked into her bag, pulling out her guidebook. "Don't worry, I'm just looking for the right Metro stop where we should meet."

Once they'd decided, they parted ways, taking different train cars home. Nino usually appreciated quiet time to himself, time to get lost in thought or in nothing at all, but he felt the slightest bit lonely taking the Metro all the way back to Satoshi's neighborhood alone, no longer feeling the slight bit of warmth he'd felt earlier that day when he and Becky had sat side by side.

Satoshi was cooking a rather late dinner when Nino got in, coming out of his tiny kitchen with an oven mitt on. "Fried rice?" his friend asked by way of greeting.

"Sure."

They split a bottle of red wine with the fried rice, Satoshi extolling the virtues of wine now that he'd been in France for so long. His friend mostly just liked to get drunk, but wine made him feel more Parisian about it. Nino poked at his food, wondering where he'd end up post-Eiffel Tower the following day.

They got on to the topic of Becky, and Satoshi gobbled his food down while Nino explained all the places they'd been that day. Finally, his friend put his spoon down and stared at him.

"You like her."

"What?" Nino cried. "I just met her. I was being nice. Helping a fellow Japanese person in need."

Satoshi remained suspicious of his motives. "Nino, you never go out."

"I go out all the time."

"When there's a girl you want to see. That's what always got you out of the house."

He scowled at his friend. "Her friend ditched her, come on. I don't know anything about this girl."

"You can still like her. It's not against the law."

Nino set his own spoon down. "She could have a boyfriend for all I know. I mean, she's not wearing a wedding ring or anything, but still. She's cute enough that she probably does. She probably thinks I'm an older brother type. Hell, she could think I'm gay and completely harmless for all I know. She's just a nice person, and she needs a friend, and it's not like I'm doing anything else."

Satoshi smiled at him when he was finished babbling. "You like her," he insisted.

Nino's chair scraped back against the floor. "I'm not helping you with the dishes. I'm your guest," he muttered in protest, heading to grab his bag and change for bed.

"You like her!" Satoshi called, a little louder once he had the sink going. "You followed her all over Paris! And you'll do it again tomorrow!"

"Shut up!" Nino screeched at him, feeling his stomach grumble at him. Even his body was against him on this. 

Well, so what if he liked this girl? He'd come to Paris trying to run away, trying to escape all the reminders of what he'd wanted to do with his life. Like Becky, Nino had had a plan, an itinerary for life. The book that would launch him and those he'd write to follow it up. He'd planned everything down to the last detail, and it had all gone south. And yet he was the one who'd lectured her about doing the same thing, albeit on a much smaller scale.

He curled up in his fortress of blankets and stray cushions, pulling the covers up over his head to ignore Satoshi's noise as he showered and got ready for bed himself. What did he have to offer a pretty girl like her anyway?

\--

"Tell her you like her. What can it hurt?" was all the note from Satoshi said the following morning. Nino crumpled it up, flinging it into a dusty corner of his friend's kitchen. 

Today he would be cheerful, he vowed. It was Becky's last day in Paris, he was the only company she'd be keeping, and he didn't want all her vacation memories to be of the grouchy, opinionated pain in the ass she'd met at the airport. He reheated some fried rice from the night before and went through his bag. Old t-shirts and ripped-up jeans, it was all he'd brought. It wouldn't do.

Satoshi's closets revealed a similar fashion sense (or lack thereof), but he did manage to find a blazer that wasn't completely disgusting and fit him decently. Wearing it over his t-shirt, he felt at least a little more put together. Effort was not always his strong suit.

Becky was already waiting at the Champ de Mars Metro stop with her brown hair tied in pigtails wearing a floral print dress and her denim jacket. Not too fancy, just his type. And with no reminders of mimes, to boot. He thought of Satoshi's stupid note. Paris was a city of romance, not a casual hookup. And Becky didn't strike him as a casual hookup type. 

She poked him in the shoulder. "Dressed for success, huh, Ninomiya-san?"

He bowed to her. "Ah, just in case you make me go into any more churches."

"How thoughtful," she said, and they headed up the escalators. The famous tower loomed ahead of them, all iron as it soared into the Paris sky.

"Hmm," he said as they headed for the queue of visitors.

"Hmm?"

"Tokyo Tower is bigger, isn't it?" he pointed out. "This isn't wow-ing me."

She linked arms with him then. "I swear, this will be the biggest tourist trap of the day."

"It's the biggest tourist trap this city has," he told her, really liking the way she held onto him as though it was the most logical thing in the world. "Anything after this can't compare."

She beamed. "We're still going up."

He'd been up to the top of Tokyo Tower on school trips, and the process was similar. Paying a ridiculous amount of money after waiting in one line, then having to queue up in another to get on the elevator. But they finally reached the top observation deck. Unlike the skyscrapers and sprawl of Tokyo, he now had a pretty girl dragging him to the glass with a silly laugh, already shoving her camera into his hand.

"Come on, get a good one!"

"You haven't even looked out the window yet. Don't you want to take it in first?"

"There were a bunch of kids waiting for elevators, and they'll totally swamp this place. We won't get a good shot if we don't take it now!"

He sighed, shaking his head. Perhaps this would make up for all of the disappointing Louvre pictures. He diligently took a few shots of her at various points on the observation deck, snapping a few more when she was looking around and figuring out where to pose. Finally she tried waving him over.

"Get in the picture."

He shook his head. "You don't have to..."

"I want you in the picture, Ninomiya-san."

She grabbed the camera away, tugging him to the glass with her and holding the camera out so they'd both be in the shot. It was an awkward angle, and she was so close that Nino could smell her perfume. Something floral, cheerful, just like her. Then there was the beep of the camera, and Becky was examining it closely.

"You blinked," she accused him.

"I was winking at you with both eyes."

She scowled at him. "We'll take another one."

And this time he couldn't help leaning closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and exhaling in relief when she launched no protest. She snapped another picture, and this one seemed to please her more.

"Good," she said, hurriedly shoving her camera in her bag. "Now we can relax."

He nodded, overhearing a dozen other languages as the tourists swarmed around the observation deck, soon joined by the school group Becky had been worried about. Before too long, it was difficult to enjoy the Parisian views, the noise getting to both of them. It was time to move on.

"One neighborhood, like I said yesterday," she said when they headed back down in the elevator. This time they took the Metro north to Montmartre and were confronted almost immediately with a hill. 

"I hate to break this to you, Becky," he said anxiously, "but I'm not in the best of shape." Or more like it was a lot easier to sit at home and eat convenience store ramen than to ever go to the gym.

There was a large white church at the top of the hill, the Sacre Couer, Becky informed him. It was where she wanted to go and as far as he could tell they had two options: the stairs or the funicular railway car. And just as he was about to bust open his wallet, Becky took off up the stairs.

"No, don't do this to me," he mumbled, staring up the multiple flights of stairs the train ran alongside. But she was already to the first landing, calling back at him to hurry up. With the help of the railing, he climbed up after her. Satoshi would be amazed to learn of Nino's athletic achievements that day, he figured.

By the time he started making progress, it seemed that Becky's initial enthusiasm was wearing off. He caught up to her on the last landing, the both of them huffing and puffing and out of breath as far more responsible people walked up and down the steps at a leisurely pace around them. He had to almost drag her up the last few stairs, and they collapsed on a bench nearby, exhausted.

"Why...why the stairs?" he asked her.

"Wasn't...wasn't so bad..." she tried convincing him, but she couldn't even convince herself. "Ugh, why did I run?"

They rested side by side on the bench for a while longer than necessary, and her hand was so close their fingers were almost touching. "Got the whole rest of the day ahead of us, and you go and do that," he chastised her.

But finally she laughed, her cheeks still pink from her exertion. "I was on track team in high school, but I wasn't very good."

"Baseball," he said. "Pitcher though, didn't run as much as everyone else. Just stood on the mound."

"We've got time," she admitted. "May as well enjoy the view from this bench for a while instead."

They chatted for a good long while about things that they'd seemed to skip during their first few days of knowing one another. He told her to call him "Nino," which sounded a lot nicer coming from her lips than the too formal "Ninomiya-san." 

She told him about the campus where she was staying, about her friend's situation (still hiding under her covers), and about her pending trip to London the following day. She'd be taking the train north and then through the Channel Tunnel. Nino wasn't sure he'd be too happy to be underwater in a tunnel for so long, but Becky seemed far braver than he was.

"So what about you, Nino?" she asked, trying out his nickname. "What really brings you to Paris anyhow?"

He leaned back against the bench. "To visit my friend. Satoshi. I told you."

"Okay," she said, leaning back too. "But who goes to visit a friend for such a long time? Or more like an indefinite amount of time with the way you mentioned it before. Don't you have people waiting for you back home? A job?"

He shrugged. "Just passing the time."

"You don't want to tell me."

"I've known you for two days."

"I get that." She leaned closer. "Are you on the run? Did you kill someone? Oh wait, are you a spy?"

"No, no, and no," he said with a laugh.

"Well? Is it so bad?"

Did it really matter if a stranger knew? Even if it had only been two days, he didn't get the impression that she would make fun of him for this. For his lack of interest in tourism, sure. For his thriftiness, sure. But not for this.

"I'm a writer. Ah, scratch that. I _was_ a writer. And I tried to sell books. Put everything I had into writing. Market's tough, a hundred and sixty-two rejection letters later, and all that's waiting for me back home is a job bagging groceries or something..."

And before he knew it he was pouring his heart out to her there on that bench, being honest in a way he never really had been before, telling her how ambitious he'd once been, how much his instructors had always praised his writing. How he'd had short stories published during college. But then the well had dried up - no matter what he wrote, it wasn't good enough. He tried different genres, different points of view, different ways of seeing the world, and the publishing houses weren't looking for his voice. Instead they wanted the latest celebrity-written novel that would sell copies for the personality alone rather than any sort of writing talent. Nobody cared what Nino had to say anymore. Nobody cared about the hours he'd poured into his work.

Rejection had crushed him until he ended up just floating along, wasting his time. He was left numb and with nothing to fall back on. It was the only thing people had ever really liked about him and now that had changed. He was sending in his manuscript with no expectation but failure. When the invitation from Satoshi had come, maybe it had been a sign. It was time to give up - one last hurrah as some sort of starving artist before settling in with a job he didn't want, doing something that would never truly make him happy.

He finally looked up, feeling guilty for talking so long. She'd listened to him ramble without interruption, this strange girl. Maybe their meeting had been fated in a way after all. Maybe what he'd really just needed was someone to listen. His mom would just tell him to keep trying, Satoshi would ask him what was so bad about bagging groceries or delivering food. A person who didn't really know him could only listen. 

Becky opened her purse suddenly, pulling out a little metal case that she'd decorated gaudily with stickers of flowers. She popped it open, pulled something out and got to her feet. "Let's do this properly, at least."

"Do what?"

"On your feet." He did as she ordered, wondering what she was going to demand he do next. "What genre do you write mostly?"

He laughed. "What?"

"What genre?"

"Just...general fiction, really. Everyday stories and experiences."

Then she was holding out her business card, smiling at him. "I told you on the train that it was fate, I told you and you didn't believe me!"

And there it was on the card, her name and the title "Editorial Services Assistant" listed along with her publishing company, Chuokoron-Shinsha. "They rejected me. Twice," he blurted out, hand shaking a little as he took the card into his hand.

"Well, you obviously didn't send your manuscript to the right person. I mainly work with children's and young adult books, but we get thousands of submissions every day," she said. "I'm obviously out of the office now, but when we're both back home, I can read your stuff, get it on the right desks."

He was flabbergasted. He'd completely given up, and here she was, giving him hope after so long without any. "It still may not be any good. But thank you," he said gratefully. "Why would you help me? And don't say because it's fate..."

"It's not," she insisted. "It's because you helped me, too."

\--

With Becky's business card in his pocket and feeling more hopeful and sure of himself than he'd felt in months, it seemed like he became the one dragging her around. After a look inside the Sacre Coeur and a long climb to the top of the dome for more pictures, he pulled her around the neighborhood.

With the guidebook long forgotten, they wandered through the streets unhindered - Nino told her how he preferred to travel, how normal people living their lives inspired his writing. She smiled, walking at his side through narrow streets. They happened upon a square where numerous artists had set up shop for the day, tourists all around waiting for a portrait of their own. He scanned the area quickly, and Satoshi was nowhere in sight. He wondered if his friend ever worked around here.

Becky parked herself on an empty stool, smiling for a young woman artist who had set up her easel near the edge of the square. Between the two of them they seemed to work out an understanding, and Nino waited patiently while the artist started to sketch.

He realized in those minutes, seeing Becky's eyes appear on the paper, her pigtails, her smile, that Satoshi had been right. He liked her, wanted to get to know her better than he knew anyone else. It seemed strange, falling so quickly for someone he barely knew, but maybe it couldn't hurt to stop being so cynical. He'd come to Paris to escape a reality he didn't want, and a new reality had come crashing into him at the baggage carousel.

"You're smiling," she said, watching him curiously from the stool. "Is she making me look funny?"

It was a faithful reproduction, though the original copy sitting before him was obviously superior. But it was fun to tease her, and he only smiled more.

"You're lucky I have to sit still!" she threatened him with a laugh.

From the square, they continued wandering until dark. Since they had no tickets for the sold-out shows at the Moulin Rouge, Becky settled for a few pictures under the windmill. He was just about to suggest dinner (his treat, no less) when Becky's cell phone rang.

He hung back patiently while she chatted. Tomorrow he'd still be in Paris, and she'd be on her way to London. Then she'd go back to Japan, and he'd still be in Paris. But he had her business card - he had a reason to go back home sooner rather than later. It wasn't just the potential of someone taking his writing seriously that made him look forward to the future though - it was her.

When her phone call ended, she looked apologetic. "My friend wants to go out tonight, to get over things a bit...a girl's night only. I'm so sorry, Nino."

"What? Sorry? Why?"

"We were having a good time. Maybe I just don't want it to end," she admitted, looking anywhere but at his face.

"Tell her you like her," Satoshi had told him just that morning. And that was before he'd decided to pour out all his other feelings, resulting in the remarkable coincidence about where Becky worked. Nino didn't want to believe in fate. He liked the idea of his own independence a little too much, but it was all rather suspicious.

Tell her you like her.

Tell her you like her, damn it.

"Ah..." he said hesitantly. "Don't worry about it. Let me walk you to your train."

Becky's face seemed the slightest bit hurt by his cowardly response, but she soon masked it with her usual smile. "I'd appreciate it, thank you."

"I'll keep your business card, and I've got your number so I'll definitely be in touch," he said when they made it to the Metro stop. "You don't know how much it means to me that you want to help."

"I'm sure you're a great writer. You just need to get matched with the right person," she said, quickly adding, "on our editorial staff."

This was it, his last chance for a confession. The most bizarre confession of his life, no doubt, seeing as he usually waited a lot longer than three days before admitting any kind of feelings. It seemed that Becky was just a special exception. And yet his tongue was tied despite everywhere they'd been together, everything they'd come to know about one another in so short a time.

"Have a safe trip to London," he told her. "And a wonderful time there."

"Won't be the same without my tour guide," she admitted, hands shoved in her pockets.

"I know even less about England than I do about France," he told her, seeing her smile for probably the last time in a while. He wanted to kiss her then, under the street lamps with the Paris night all around them. Two ordinary enough people in ordinary circumstances, and it was enough to make him want to write a whole novel about it. And he wouldn't even care if that one got rejected.

"Well, goodbye Nino. It was fun to spend time with you. Sorry for any inconvenience I caused you."

"Not at all. Goodbye Becky. Talk to you soon."

He couldn't manage to do it. He couldn't squeak out a confession, not even at the last moment. Nino watched her wave before descending the steps to the Metro station. She disappeared from his sight, the silly pigtails vanishing. He found that he wasn't ready to go back to Satoshi's place, not yet, somehow meandering back to the steps they'd run up earlier that day.

Nino took one step at a time, slower this time, and when he got to the top he laughed.

"I like you," he muttered to himself. "Becky, I like you."

\--

Satoshi only shook his head when Nino returned, filling him in on most of the day's happenings.

"She's going to try and pass my book around," he tried to explain. "It's just...it's not the right time for more than that, you know? Not if she's trying to help me professionally."

"Of course."

"And besides, I only just got here. I haven't spent nearly enough time bothering you. I can't go back home, not yet."

"Sure." Satoshi's face was just as placid as always, but his eyes told a different story.

He scowled at his friend. "You think I'm a coward."

Satoshi walked to the window, looking out. "That's the thing about writers. You think too much."

He wandered over, resting his chin on his friend's shoulder as they both stared out at the busy neighborhood far below. "I don't know her."

"Well how else are you going to know her if you don't try? And from what it sounds like, I think you've got a good shot. I don't think she'll say no. She did hang out with you for two days without pushing you into the river."

Nino smirked. "That's your vote of confidence?"

His friend chuckled. "She even told you what time her train leaves, dummy. I'll help you."

As Nino settled in for bed that night, he wondered when Satoshi had gotten so meddlesome. He'd usually been so quiet - maybe Paris changed everyone, at least a little bit.

\--

Satoshi's friend in the neighborhood was a taxi driver, and even with the Paris morning rush, the guy seemed to know all the back alleyways and quieter streets to zoom through, crossing the Seine to head back to the Gare du Nord. He'd have to catch her before she went through the check-in gate since he didn't feel like paying for a Eurostar ticket, even with the impulsiveness he was already experiencing.

For his part Satoshi seemed almost as excited as Nino felt, which was rare for him if it didn't involve painting and sketching. He'd insisted on coming since the train station itself was so large. They thanked his friend as they came flying up to the station, Nino nearly losing his breakfast from the crazy driving.

Then they were off, Satoshi tugging him along as Nino fumbled with his cell phone. "Should I call her?" he was muttering. "If she's already gone this was pointless..."

"Don't call her!" Satoshi said, "it's more like a movie if your eyes meet across the room."

"This is a pretty damn big room, idiot!" Nino grumbled back, hurrying under a big departure board. Eurostar, he kept telling himself. He had to find the Eurostar. 

Satoshi dragged him around a corner towards the ticket counter, and they crashed into another customer, knocking her obnoxiously green bags over as she came hurrying from the opposite direction.

"Nino..."

He looked up from where he'd stumbled, righting her suitcase quickly. Green bags, green eyes, and the smile he'd so easily been drawn in by. 

"Becky."

Satoshi was already walking off, hands in his pockets as though he was just another stranger in the station. Didn't he want to stay and gloat about the movie-like encounter? Maybe he'd just tease him later.

They got her bags together, moving aside and out of the way. "What are you doing here?" she asked, face bright red.

"When does your train leave?"

"About 30 minutes," she said. "But why are you _here_?"

It was a strange feeling, being in the crowded train station. Tourists and natives alike hurrying around for their trains, announcements echoing in a language he'd never understand, the smell of fresh bread wafting from one of the dozens of stores in the massive station. And yet he only had eyes for her.

She didn't even protest when he leaned in to gently kiss her, tasting some oddly fruity gloss on her lips. If she was shocked, she got over it quickly enough, closing the distance between them to hold his hands. It was too much of a coincidence, too ridiculous that he'd turned a corner and there she was. There was no reasonable explanation.

When they broke apart, he smiled and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Guess it must be fate."


End file.
